With a start she saw that Toby's fair head was bowed upon her arms in an attitude of the most hopeless, the most bitter, despair. She made a convulsive movement at the sound of Maud's voice, and in a moment lifted a white, strained face. "I am just a little tired, that's all," she said in a voice that quivered in spite of her. "Please go on playing! I like it." Maud got up with quiet decision and went to her, but Toby was on her feet before she reached her. She stood with that look of a small, frightened animal so characteristic of her, her two hands nervously locked together. Maud took her gently by the arm. "Shall we sit down and talk?" she said. Toby yielded as it were involuntarily to the quiet touch. In her plain white blouse with the sailor collar she looked a mere child--a piteous, shy child. Maud drew her down upon the sofa. All the mother in her went out to the forlorn little creature, yet for the moment she hesitated, as one afraid to strike a wrong note. Toby was trembling a little and that fact decided her. She put a comforting arm about her. "Do you know I am wondering how to make you happy?" she said. Toby choked back a sob. "You are very kind, and I am stupid--stupid. I will try to be happy. I will really." Maud began to draw her gently nearer, but Toby surprised her by a sudden passionate movement and slipped down on to the floor, hiding her face against her. "I'm not fit--to speak to you!" she said in a vehement, strangled whisper. "I'm so bad--so bad. And I do--so--want to be good." "My dear, dear child!" Maud said very tenderly. Toby fought with herself for a space, her thin arms tightly clasping Maud's knees. At last, forcing back her distress she lifted her head. "I'm so dreadfully sorry. Don't let it upset you! Don't--tell Jake!" "You are quite safe with me, dear," Maud assured her. "But can't I help you?" She knew even as she asked the question that Toby was not prepared to give her full confidence, and her own reserve shrank from asking for it. Toby looked up at her with quivering lips. "Oh, you are good!" she said. "I want to be good--like you. But--I don't feel as if I ever shall be." Maud laid a very gentle hand upon the blue-veined forehead. "I think goodness is only comparative at the best of times, dear," she said. "I don't feel that I am specially good. If I seem so to you, it is probably because my life holds very few temptations to be anything else." "Ah!" Toby said, with a quick sigh. "And do you think people ought to be made to suffer for--for things they can't help?" Maud shook her head. "I am afraid it often happens, dear." "And yet you believe in God," Toby said. "Yes, I believe in God." With quiet reverence Maud made answer. "And I am quite sure, Toby--quite, quite sure--that He never holds people responsible for the things they can't help." "Then why--" began Toby restlessly.